


Crimson Sins

by Oneroika_Lunae



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Actually it was a friend thinking about them in bed, All her Fault, I was thinking about those two in bed, It was the stab scene, M/M, What Was I Thinking?, With me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5238308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oneroika_Lunae/pseuds/Oneroika_Lunae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alan and Thomas can't stand each other, and yet, they are bonded together by Edith, sweet Edith, and Lucille's madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thomas

**Author's Note:**

> I don' t even know . well. Enjoy??

Alan hated the stupid, posh, unsufferable british baronet. Hated him so much. He took Edith from him. He took her, and not only convinced her to gave him her money, but to abandon the rest of her friends. She didn't even ansewered his letters. 

That's why he had travelled all the way from America to Allendale hall. To see Edith, to punch that englishman in the face if he had mistreated her in any way. 

He wasn't ready for what he found. 

Thomas Sharpe greeted him on the door, dressed all in black, with his white skin paler than usual, as pale as the snow on the mountainside and with puffy red eyes from crying non stop for days. It only made his eyes look bluer, his lips redder, and seeing him in such state touched something in Alan's heart. The fierce instinct that drove him to protect Edith, so delicate as a flower. 

He was informed that, three days ago, Edith, who was gravelly ill, had woken up screaming to invisible people, probably the fever making her allucinate, and ran from her room. Lady Lucille,Thomas sister, ran after her, but Edith wasn't in her right mind and fought Lucille. In the end, young miss Sharpe has fallen from the third store and shattered her skull. Edith wandered into the snow and when Thomas returned, the next morning from the town, found Edith half frozen in the road and Lucille death. 

Now, Lucille was buried and Edith was diying, according to their doctor.

Alan ran to Edith side, not accepting that she would die in here, like this. She looked so pale, her hair a curtain of gold on the white sheets. He checked her. The cold has frozen her feet, herhands, had burnt her face. She was a mess,his poor Edith, beautiful even at death's doors.

Alan stayed with Thomas Sharpe, taking care of Edith, finally asking him to let her go back to America. Thomas (he hadn't been sir Thomas or mister Sharpe for a while, Alan not knowing when the change happened or why he did it) 

Edith didn't make it to America. They travelled to bury her with her family, together Thomas and him, and maybe It was the desperation on Thomas face, his tear-streaked face or his lost eyes that drove him to reeturn with the man to Allendale hall, to stay with him in that old broken house. It was poetic, the way this broken man lived on a broken house.

They lived together, and nothing could have been more natural to Alan than taking care of Thomas. The man had lost his will to live with Edith, just like Alan, but, Alan made taking care of Thomas a new reason, a new purpose, rather than wither away like Thomas did waiting for time to reunite him with Edith. 

Alan would prepare the meals, pinch Thomas until he got dressed, took the baronet to his workshop and left him there for the day. Alan ordered the library, cleaned the rooms, and started repairing the house, bit by bit.

Thomas seemed haunted. Dark circles under his eyes, his skin becoming paler every passing day, even when Alan would force him out to take long walks around the state. 

Sometimes Alan had to force Thomas to eat. 

Sometimes Alan would see Edith's things, and his throat would feel constricted and tears would flood his eyes. Those days Alan spent them by the fire, with Edith's dog and a bottle of whisky. Sometimes he would sought Thomas in his workshop, and they would cry and held each other as they mourned the woman they loved.

In the end, he knew It was for the better. He packed everything that once belonged to Edith and stored everything. Maybe one day Thomas would have a daughter that would like those jewels, the stories, the things Edith loved. Or maybe he would, though he doubted it, find a women like Edith to marry and have aa daughter of his own, and maybe, Thomas would let him have some of those things for his little Edith. 

It happened for the first time in the anniversarie of their deaths. Thomas and him had drank everything with alcohol in the house, adn suddenly they were kissing, Thomas tonge warm in his mouths, his cold hands sending shivers down his spine, undressing him, touching him, driving him crazy.

They left a trail of clothes from the chimeny to Alan's bed. 

The night was spent in that bed, hungry bodies taking everything from each other, kissing sucking, biting. When Thomas licked a trail from his neck to his thights Alan wondered, while his thoughts were still coherent, if he had done the same to Edith. But then Thomas mouth was on him, sucking and enveloping him in that velvet moist cave, and Alan was lost. Lost to the point he didn't felt the fingers, covered in oil, as they breached him. 

He cried in ectasy as Thomas penetrated him, and they spoke soft words of love and promises as they kissed each other and rocked on the bed. Thomas kissed Alans tears of disconfort and swallowed withhis mouth his cries of pleasure, until both of them were tired and covered in sweat and semen.

Alan fell sleep tucked into Thomad side, warm, drunk and happy for the first time since Edith died.


	2. Whispers in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their first night together, Alan has a very vivid allucination, surely product of the abuse of alcohol..... But then, why is Thomas so worried???

Alan woke up to cold sheets and an empty bed.

It didn't matter, Alan woke with a smile on his lips and went about his day in a cheery mood, he never stop smiling even when Thomas could only blush and hid his face from him before making excuses to get him out of his workshop. Alan found it incredibly endearing. 

He cleaned up a whole floor, sweeping floors and polishing the wood. In one ocassion he caught Thomas staring at him from the third floor, and only then repared on the picture he made, on his hands and knees, rubbing the wax with vigour on the old floor. Alan's smile grew wider. Oh Thomas. He was just as innocent as Edith. Alan's smile dissapeared. Gods, Itwasn't like that. Thomas wasn't going to be Edith's sustitute. He wasn't so desperate and cruel as to play with the man like that. But, the shadow of doubt didn't left him the rest of the evening.

Alan decided to drink a few fingers of whiskey, cold from being outside, while he waited for dinner to be cooked. Thomas, with all his deffects, had many talents that made him worthy of being loved. At first he had been just too jealous to notice. He took another sip and sat on one of the old chairs of the kitchen. 

Thomas, was a kind soul, now, tormented by grief at his family's death ( losing not only his wife, but his sister too... Being left alone in the world, in this old house, isolated, would have been a cause for anyone to break, and Thomas,though strong, wasn't that strong. Alan found that Thomas, broken as he was, was a lovely sight, and maybe, just maybe, what Thomas could be once he was whole again was part of the reason Alan stayed with him, a first row seat to see the catterpilar turning into a butterfly) 

There will come the day when Thomas would be healed, whole, ready to fly, and Alan pretended to be there. 

Another sip of whiskey. Oh, the stew was ready. He put it out of the fire and looked at the clock. Thomas hadn't came out from his workshop, maybe he wouldn't have dinner unless Alan made him. After his shyness in the morning, Alan needed some liquid courage to say anything to the man. He served himself another two fingers of whiskey. 

Another sip. Thomas was brilliant, with his wild imagination, alive even in the middle of such tragedy, he never stopped working, he was even more prolific, burying himself in work rather than facing his grief. Alan liked Thomas. Hell, maybe he even loved the man. He had sex with him just last night. 

Alan found that the whismey was all gone anf refilled the glass. He sighted. Life was complicated, but then, that was life. 

After Alan's third refilling, he was more brave than half an hour ago. He arranged dinner for the two of them and put it on a tray with some wine and the whiskey. Alan climbed the stairs humming to Thomas's workshop. Kicking the door gently,since he couldn't use his hands he entered the place, counting with having been announced by the kicking in the door. 

Thomas looked up from were he had been working on a mechanical toy a company had hired him to dessing. It was a little car that moved on it's own around a circuit. Alan marveled for a second before leaving the tray on the nearest available space and helping Thomas cleaning one of the tables so they could have dinner. It was a quiet affair, none of them spoke, though Thomas 's hand moved on top on Alan's entwining their fingers, and stayed there the whole meal.

It was a good idea to bring the alcohol. Their tonges,tied by shyness and maybe some shame (sodomy was, after all,a grave sin that condemned them both to hell) 

Thomas was an affectionate drunk,even when he had only drank a glass, and was much more sober than Alan. He wrapped his long limbs around the blonde, lying there onthe fluffy carpet,kissing him on the lips, onthe cheek, on his neck. Thomasmay as wel had been a vampire with the way he clung to Alan's neck, bitting and kissing and sucking until Alan's desire was impossible to hide and the blonde couldn't contain his moans anymore. 

Somehow they were out of drinks and, Alan, stupid drunk that he was volunteered to go fech more booze if in exchange Thomas would get everything ready by the time he was back. The other man didn't lose a second before adding more wood to the fire and arranging a love nest in the floor in front of tbe fireplace with blankets and some pillows. Alan left the room laughing at his partner's excitement.

He stumbled down stairs to the living room and the liquor cabinet, but he was distracted by the sound of the piano being played. What a beautiful music, what a charming melody... He aproached the piano, alcohol forgoten for a minute. There she was, beautiful and terrible at the same time, with the same air as a queen, playing the piano, her long,elegsnt fingers flyings over the ivories. 

He recognized her. She was Lucille Sharpe. But, Lucille died, didn't she? 

"Miss... Miss Sharpe??? But, I thought.... I..." the figure turned asround and Alan screamt. He face was an empty skull, dark red and terrible, the empty place where the eyes should have been stared into his soul, and then she shifted, changed, muscles covered the red bones, and skin covered the muscles, and her face was twisted in anger when she rose from the bench and floated. Yes, floated. Straight to Alan. She screamt and it was a terrible sound, a lament, a shriek of the damned that have lost everything and suffer an eternal torment. She crossed though him and Alan fell on his knees, invaded by a cold that frozed him over. Lucille Shafpe floated around him, hitting him with her fists,and,wherever she touched him, cold sprouted on his skin,freezing and burning on the same time. She was shouting " you think you can take him from me???" another hit " he was mine form the day he was born!!!!" Lucille continued shouting and twisting until Alan could stood anymore and fell on the floor, shaking, his teeth clattering and feeling like he was made of ice. " go away!!! Everything was fine until you two came along, you, stupid naive little butterflies, who didn't knew about love!!! Who didn't knew about hardships snd sacrifice!!!! Love is sacrifice!!! What have you sacrificed for him???!!! Nothing!!!! Nothing at all!!! You cannot take him from me!!!! His is mine!!! Forever!!! Mine!!! Always! He won't love anyone, did you her me?? No one else but me!!! He is mine!!!never yours! Never your yo stupid little butterfly!!!" her face sometimes was a red skull, sometimes a beautiful face with par of the face craked and coated in blood.

Alan couldn't take it anymore. It was too cold. Too cold.

"Lucille!!!!"

**Author's Note:**

> Opinions???? Same as always folks, hope your enjoyed it, leave kudos and comment.
> 
>  
> 
> Love
> 
>  
> 
> Luna


End file.
